


Arrangement

by goldenwatcher



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Peter is an adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenwatcher/pseuds/goldenwatcher
Summary: Norman Osborn has forced Peter to forfeit his kingdom. But Osborn has plans to prevent Peter from being able to escape, and that's where Wade comes in.





	Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PennamePersona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennamePersona/gifts).



Peter was four years old when his parents died.  They had been on a regular expedition to take stock of the direwolf pack in the kingdom.  There were specialists for most of the magical creatures, but the relationship between the royalty and the pack was such that it was the duty of the king and his queen to check on their welfare.  They were set upon by bandits, although there were doubts amongst some that they were highwaymen.

 

According to the laws of the kingdom, Peter was now king, but he could not be coronated until his twenty-first birthday.  The crown required a regent. Norman Osborn volunteered. Their two kingdoms split the lush valley that was surrounded on three sides by mountains.  Osborn focused on the gems and minerals in the mines of the range. The Parkers had nourished the many magical creatures in the region, their exports rare and highly valued.  It was no secret that Osborn wanted to unite the kingdoms under his banner and expand the mining, uninterested in the care of the animals and the slow process of cultivating goods from them.  Many suspected that Osborn arranged for the attack. No one could prove it, of course, but the rumors made the idea of Norman Osborn as regent for the young prince distressing to the nobility.  Fortunately, King Richard had a brother, Benjamin, who had become a farmer with his wife, May. The two immediately moved to the capital to raise their nephew and teach him how to rule the kingdom he’d inherited so young.

 

~~~

 

Peter stared out of the window, breathing hard as he felt the walls closing in on him.  It felt like he never left the castle, knew nothing about the lives of his citizens, knew nothing about being normal.  It seemed like his entire life was spent on rules, laws, and manners, formal terms of address, and which fork to use with what.  If he tried, he could almost remember his mother’s warm embrace and his father’s proud smile. He remembered being loved without a care in the world.  He knew Ben and May loved him, but the responsibilities they pressed into him became too much to bear. It wasn’t fair.

 

He heard the chamber door open and he fumed.  They couldn’t even give him this small time? They couldn’t just let it lie?

 

“Peter--” May started softly.

 

“You wanted me to make a decision and I made one!” he snapped, glancing sideways at his aunt.  “The rate of lethal encounters with bandits has only increased in the past eleven years. Harsher punishments would dissuade that!”

 

“At what price, Peter?  They are human, you know.”

 

“So are the people they are murdering, or have you forgotten?”

 

“Peter,” Ben said sternly, hidden in the doorway.  His mouth was set in a line that made it hard for Peter to breathe.  “This is the reason why the chancellor suggested you were too compromised to consider the issue rationally.”

 

“And you’re not?  Your brother was killed by bandits!  Don’t you care?”

 

“Peter!” May scolded.

 

“Nothing has changed!  If they are going to act like animals, perhaps we should treat them like some!”

 

“They are your people, Peter,” Ben argued.  “They have committed crimes that they should be held responsible for, but they are still deserving of your consideration and protections.”

 

“And what consideration did they give to their victims?”

 

“You cannot think like that!  You are not there to avenge, but to stabilize and allow all equal protection under the law.  You have a responsibility to all of your people, the good to protect and the bad to help them to be better, and you can’t allow your emotions to blind you to that!”

 

“Do you expect me to say I’m sorry?” Peter snarled, the trapped anxiety roiling through his chest until he thought he would burst.  “Apologize that I’m not as cold and unfeeling as you are? Sorry that I can’t be some ice dragon distantly watching the world slide by?  I’m not! And I’ll never be.”

 

“Peter!” May exclaimed, shocked.  He ignored her, darting out of the room to get away.  No one followed after him, and he made his way to a hidden passage built long ago.  It was meant as an escape tunnel but the underground part had been bricked up at one point.  It still lead out onto the castle grounds, into a quiet and often overlooked area. It wasn’t well-guarded because of the steep walls, but Peter was an excellent climber.  No one knew of his talent, his aunt and uncle included, so he was able to change into less noticeable clothing and get over the wall without being caught. He’d only done it once before and they still had no idea how he’d managed to get out.

 

Peter carefully made his way over the wall and across the rooftops of the town.  The sun had already set some time before and he dropped down into an alley. He pulled his coat tight around him and made his way wandering around.

 

He had no goal in mind, really.  He simply needed time to cool his head.  He knew that his Uncle Ben was right, that they had to give people a chance and that everyone deserved a certain amount of protections, but it was hard to listen to the same arguments over and over without things changing.  He didn’t want to be king but, if he had to do it, then he wanted to make a difference.

 

He wandered for a long time, making himself small and staying out of the way.  Eventually he turned back, heading toward the castle. The guard would be on alert and searching for him, May and Ben worried sick.  He heard a muffled cry and hesitated, glancing around for the source. An itch started in the back of his neck. He shouldn’t go looking for trouble, but he also couldn’t simply ignore someone who might need his help.  He ducked down the alley and hesitantly looked around. Someone was crumpled to the floor, and with a start, Peter realized he recognized the clothes.

 

“Uncle Ben!” he cried out, surging forward and collapsing to his knees beside the prone man.  He carefully turned Ben onto his back, heart racing at all of the blood. It looked like he’d been stabbed.

 

Ben looked up at him, face shockingly pale.  His lips moved slowly, but no sound came out.  He reached up as if intending to touch Peter’s face.  The teen clasped his uncle’s hand, holding it up to his cheek.  A faint smile flickered across Ben’s lips before they went slack.  Eyes went glassy and lifeless as Ben’s cold hand fell limp in his.

 

“No,” Peter whimpered, clutching at him.  He lifted his head to shout for the guards and suddenly found a dagger at his throat.

 

“Don’t scream now.  We don’t want to cut your throat but we will.”

 

Peter carefully followed the dagger as it guided him away from Ben.  He swallowed down another whimper as he was lead to a wall then turned to face his attacker.  The man was tall, broad, and dressed from head to toe in black. His face alone was bare, blue eyes holding a strange glint.  The man smiled at him almost warmly.

 

“There now, that’s not so bad.  Now,” he gestured to Ben’s body with the dagger, “you called him Uncle.  That makes you Prince Peter, doesn’t it?”

 

Peter didn’t answer, terror and grief making his body tremble.  The man tsked.

 

“Come now.  Evidence to the contrary but we really do try not to kill more than necessary.”

 

“Are you going to kill me?”  Some part of him was pleased that his voice remained even.

 

“Well, that depends.  Are you the prince?”

 

He didn’t know what answer the man wanted or why he was there.  It was entirely possible that he was going to kill Peter, but if that was the case, he refused to be cowering when it happened.  He tilted his chin slightly in defiance. “I am.”

 

“Oh, good.”  The man tucked the dagger away.  “We were looking for you. Saved us a lot of trouble by leaving the castle.”  He started to rifle through his pockets.

 

Peter stared at him, startled and confused by the sudden change the conversation had taken.  “You… you didn’t kill my uncle?”

 

“Oh, we did, but it wasn’t part of the original plan.  We needed to find you.” The hand reappeared, a strange metal claw on one finger.  The man seemed to pause, expression distant as if listening to something only he could hear.  “Well, I don’t necessarily like this plan better, but whatever works, right?” He focused again on Peter and smiled almost gently at him. “It’s nothing personal, alright?”

 

“What--” But then the claw sank into the soft flesh of his forearm.  He jerked, trying to pull away. To his surprise, the man quickly released him and pulled the bloody claw off, tucking it away.  Not far from them, Peter could hear the noisy approach of the guards.

 

“Good-bye, your Highness, and our condolences for your loss.”  The man turned away.

 

“Wait!  What did you do?  Who are you?”

 

The man turned and smiled faintly.  “We are Venom.” Then he seemed to slide up the wall and disappear.

 

Venom.  Peter felt his insides freeze.  No one knew exactly where Venom came from or what he was, but he was an assassin who specialized in a poison whose cure was exceptionally rare.  Usually, only kings and others with power, wealth, and paranoia had the cure in stock. The Parkers did not. He sank to the floor, fingertips twitching as a guard spotted him and called out.  He stared at Ben’s body, unsure if his trembling was shock or the poison. He was going to die and nothing could be done.

 

~~~

 

Peter opened his eyes, pulling away from the memory as he sighed.  He glanced down at his forearm, thumb gently stroking over the scar from that awful night.  Even more of his world had been taken from him until he doubted there was any more to give.

 

Venom’s poison took days to kill his prey, but it wasn’t long enough to obtain the extremely rare and expensive anti-venom.  That was, unless someone happened to have some. That someone had been, of course, Norman Osborn. The offer had been simple: the vial, and once Peter was coronated on his twenty-first birthday, he would sign the kingdom over.  May hadn’t a choice. Even though she was Ben’s legal wife, she wasn’t heir to the throne. If both Ben and Peter died, there were no royals left, and Osborn could have taken them to war. With Peter alive, they could at least negotiate for the safety of their people.

 

The coronation had been yesterday.  Negotiations leading up to the forfeiture of the kingdom had been long and difficult.  Peter had fought hard for the protection of his people, including the magical creatures that lived within his half of the valley, and particularly of May.  In turn, she had fought for Peter, who was in a far more precarious position than she. She could not produce heirs, but he could, and that was something Osborn had been eager to nip in the bud.  He didn’t want any challenges to the throne. The creatures would be safe, so long as they weren’t in the way of mining efforts, and the people would prosper. Osborn was not a cruel king and his people did well under his strict rule, but some things the Parkers had been happy and lenient with, such as allowing marriage to any adults who happily consented, were bit more complicated in Osborn’s kingdom.  Couples of the same gender could not marry there without the king’s express permission, and it was difficult to gain his audience over something like that. Peter had fought and won over preventing the dissolution over any such marriages. He’d had to forfeit his own right to marriage on that. According to the documents, despite him being of legal age and a deposed king, Osborn retained rights to approve or deny any marriage, as well as having the right to give Peter into a legal marriage.  He was exiled, and yet still Osborn’s property. Since it was possible that a marriage might be arranged at some future point, he had to remain childless and chaste.

 

That didn’t bother Peter as much as it had bothered May.  He was alright with it. It was a small price to pay for keeping his people safe.  Peter would be exiled, but had already been offered a home in Stark’s kingdom. May had to stick around to smooth over some issues, but that shouldn’t take long and Osborn had promised in writing to deliver her safe and whole to Stark.  Everything had been hammered out, and anything Peter had needed to sign or make happen before he lost the throne had been done. Now, his things packed and dressed in the clothes of a commoner, he silently awaited Norman Osborn’s arrival to finish the signing, May silent beside him.

 

Peter hadn’t needed to wait long before Osborn arrived with his son Harry in tow.  Harry was Peter’s age, and had told Peter himself that he was petitioning his father for their marriage.  After all, what a better way to unite the kingdoms? Peter didn’t believe Norman wanted him anywhere near the throne, but he couldn’t really say what the strange king would do.  He had weird desires sometimes and Peter could not fathom some of his reasoning. He had been wrong before about the man.

 

The treaty was placed before the kings and each was allowed to check to make sure there had been no sudden changes.  “You recall the terms of your exile?” Osborn said, his voice cold in a way that had always bothered Peter. “Once you leave the valley, you are exiled on pain of death?”

 

“I recall,” he said softly, trying to keep the sadness from his voice.  The Parkers had always been loved, and their greatest treasure was the maintenance of the direwolf pack that lived in the mountains.  He was sad that he would not be able to maintain that relationship. Even when things had looked their bleakest, he had still looked forward to that.  It had been impossible to tell if the alpha had understood his explanation and good-byes.

 

They signed the papers, and even though Peter had known that this was coming, the pain was more difficult than he'd expected.  Osborn’s seneschal handed the other king several more documents and Osborn signed off on them. The bundle was handed back and Osborn turned to the papers in front of May without a second glanced to Peter.  May touched his hand as he rose and stepped by, giving him a gentle smile.

 

“Follow me,” the seneschal said coolly.  He crooked a finger, beckoning Peter to follow behind.  He silently did so. He didn’t expect the man to refer to him by a title he no longer had, but he was still a little surprised by the abrupt tone.  He followed the man outside where a cart had been loaded with his possessions. A few guards in Osborn’s colors were astride horses, awaiting them. Peter’s horse was saddled, though a regular blanket was across the mare’s back rather than his usual royal one.  That didn’t surprise him, and he was grateful that it was Karen rather than some other horse. He was only a little surprised by the escort. He presumed that they were to make sure he left the valley. He was a little more startled when the seneschal himself mounted.

 

A servant from his own household handed him a lovely cloak.  It was brand-new and not his own, but it was lush and well-made, deep black cloth  trimmed in silvery fur that he recognized from the direwolves. He looked at her askance.

 

“We’ll miss you, your Majesty,” she murmured softly, helping him with the gift.

 

“Thank you,” he said, touched.  The seneschal cleared his throat and Peter glanced back to see his frown.  He moved to Karen, stroking her neck and easily mounting.

 

“I must admit that I am not surprised by the escort, Lord Seneschal, but that you are also coming--”

 

“By his Majesty’s command,” the man interrupted.  He turned his horse around and started off, the guards silently following behind.  Peter’s expression didn’t change, but he internally sighed. It was going to be a long ride to the border.

 

It was two days of mostly silent travel before Peter began to suspect something was wrong.  The valley that the two kingdoms resided in had only one entrance to the West. The rest of it was surrounded by mountains with their fair share of trolls, dragons, and direwolves.  There were no other ways into the valley. When their path took them North into Osborn's kingdom rather than continuing West, Peter frowned in concern.

 

That night, once they had made camp, Peter approached the seneschal.  “Lord Seneschal, I can’t help but notice we are headed North. My understanding was that I was to be escorted out of the valley?”

 

The man looked at him disdainfully.  “These are his Majesty’s orders.”

 

“I don’t understand why.”

 

“You don’t need to understand.  He is your liege and your guardian.  You have agreed to obey his commands as such while in his kingdom.”

 

Peter swallowed, his anxiety rising.  “I did,” he said slowly. “My apologies.”  He watched the seneschal move away. He had not expected to be in the valley long enough to need to worry about Osborn’s possible orders.  Once in Stark’s kingdom, the only command he could possibly receive were marriage orders. This confused him. Did Osborn intend to keep him prisoner?

 

They traveled on the calm road, passing from Peter’s kingdom into Osborn’s.  The differences were not as stark as Peter had expected, but he thought the people didn’t look as happy.  Everything felt a little strained, a noticeable lack of signs that indicated the magnificent wildlife that were found farther South.  It made him worry about his people and the creatures in the land, but there was nothing that could be done. Eventually, they started rising in elevation, climbing the side of the mountain range.  Peter's concern grew greater and greater until he saw the stronghold through the snow. It was freezing at this elevation, the winds sharp and cutting, tearing at him through his cloak. He could feel Karen shudder at times underneath him.

 

Dread sank into Peter’s gut as he realized what the king had done.  Osborn had arranged for Peter’s exile without telling the younger king what his plans were.  He had intended all along to isolate Peter from anyone who might support him. As long as he was in Osborn’s lands, he was subject to the whims of the king and could not ensure free movement.  There was little that Peter would be able to do up in the mountains and no way for him to contact anyone. The trick shocked him, and hurt. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Many people had long presumed that it was Osborn who hired Venom to poison Peter, to manipulate May exactly as he had.  They could just never prove his deviousness.

 

Arriving at the courtyard of the stronghold, Peter saw a man standing a distance from the door to the household. His hood was up, obscuring his face, and he was dressed warmly in a fur-lined coat.  The party stopped within a few yards of the man and the seneschal dismounted, the guards beginning to detach the cart from the horse that drew it. Peter stayed where he was, half afraid that they would take Karen if he dismounted her.

 

“Lord General Wilson,” the seneschal said, bowing slightly before the man.  “I come bearing a message from his Majesty, our King.”

 

Peter started at the name.  He was familiar with the Lord General Wade Wilson, not personally of course, but he’d heard the stories.  A few years before his uncle had died, he’d heard the talk about the Lord General having distinguished himself in an attack against the kingdom.  Brigands had attacked a farm, causing a fire. The Lord General, a soldier at the time, had led the defense of the farm, and had run into the house to save a child trapped inside.  He had been terribly burned, but had managed to save her life.

 

Of course, he’d also heard that Wilson was a very dangerous man.  It was why he held the Northern stronghold. There were no humans to defend against, but the creatures in the inhospitable mountains were exceptionally dangerous.

 

The man did not answer the seneschal or take the papers.  He looked over at Peter, studying him. From the distance, Peter still could not see his face, so he could not judge what the man was thinking.

 

“This is not a prison or a resort,” the Lord General said, turning back to the seneschal.  “Send him somewhere else.”

 

“That is quite impossible,” the seneschal said, looking almost smug.  “Come, Lord General. It is improper for you to disregard the word of your king.”

 

“I was sent here to defend the North and I need every hand to do so.  I cannot spare people to protect a helpless royal. Send him away.” Wade turned and headed back inside.

 

“And what of your husband?” the seneschal asked lightly.

 

Wade paused.  “I have no husband.”

 

“You do now,” the seneschal informed him with a smirk.

 

Peter did not note the Lord General’s reaction, staring at the seneschal in shock.  “What?” he said.

 

Wade stormed back up and snatched the documents, opening them and glancing through them.  The seneschal sneered at Peter. “You agreed to this, remember? You signed the document saying that the king had the right to marry you off.”

 

“I signed no documents of my marriage.”

 

“You don’t have to,” he said disdainfully.  “As the king’s subject, he has every right to sign off without your agreement.  You should be more careful to read what it is that you sign, Parker. And you should mind your words not to question the integrity of your betters.”

 

Peter stiffened.  He knew very well what was in the agreement that he signed and knew that Osborn had the right to do exactly this, but he had thought he would have been given notice.  A part of him that was wounded by all that had happened, a part that had been suffering since Ben had died, was not surprised. The cold, isolated stronghold really was a prison, one he certainly couldn’t leave if he was married to the lord of the house.  There would be no friends, no children, and no way for him to assuredly get word to his Aunt May or to Stark.

 

Wade snapped the papers down, favoring the seneschal with a glare.  “An insult to my husband is an insult to me,” he said, voice low and cold.  “So what is it, Seneschal? Is he my husband, or is he beneath you? Unless you are implying that you find me to be lesser than you.”  His tone suggested it might be unhealthy to do so. Frankly, Peter was shocked at the defense, although it made sense. Soldiers in particular could not allow a transgression against their authority pass.

 

The seneschal blanched.  “No, Lord General. I would never wish you insult.  My apologies.”

 

“No apologies needed then,” Wade said pleasantly, instantly lighting up.  He allowed the seneschal to relax before he added, “Well, not to me, anyways.  The insult was to my husband, after all. Apologize to him.” It was not a suggestion.

 

The seneschal looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.  Peter considered refusing, as he couldn’t be bothered to care about the man’s opinion of him.  However, since Wade couldn’t possibly know him well enough to care about his feelings, he presumed this was a part of the power play and had nothing to do with him.  He remained seated quietly, watching the seneschal, pointedly keeping his posture as relaxed as he could rather than erect and proper as he would when king.

 

“My apologies,” the seneschal said before turning back to Wade.  “Now then--”

 

“My Lord,” Wade interrupted.

 

The seneschal blinked.  “Pardon, my Lord?”

 

“Exactly.  I am Lord General.  As such, you will refer to my husband as Lord Parker, Lord Parker-Wilson, or my Lord.  Now, try again.”

 

The shade of red the man’s face went was rather alarming in Peter’s opinion.  He glanced at the Lord General, but the man didn’t look at him, standing calmly as he waited for the slight to be rectified.  The seneschal turned back to Peter, posture screaming with rage, but his voice was even as he spoke. “My apologies, my Lord.”

 

Peter politely inclined his head in acknowledgement.  The seneschal didn’t bother turning back to Wade, too enraged by being forced to play nice with the former king.  He mounted his horse and the guards surrounded him.

 

“By the way, Lord Parker,” he suddenly said, glancing at the younger man.  “We are in the mountains now. The valley ended several miles down the road.”  He smirked meanly at Peter’s surprise before spurring his horse on and leaving the gates.  A man Peter hadn’t seen until just then immediately began lowering the gate to the walls.

 

“What is the significance of the valley?” Wade said, interrupting Peter’s dismay.

 

He swallowed, looking down at the Lord General.  “Once I leave the valley, I’m exiled on pain of death.”  He numbly looked around at his prison.

 

Wade frowned.  “There’s no way down the mountain except through the valley.”

 

“I rather expect that’s the point.”  Exhaustion settled into Peter’s bones.  He didn’t even know where to begin handling the situation he was suddenly in.  He had rather expected that Osborn would never allow him to marry, and had suspected he might eventually take a male lover rather than continue to be alone, but that was far in the future.  He had never considered that Osborn would use it to keep him shackled in such a way. More than that, he couldn’t hope to understand how the Lord General must feel about such a thing. Peter could never had forced one of his people into marriage like that.  The laws of Osborn’s land were horrible.

 

Feeling Karen shudder under him, Peter forced himself to put his apprehension aside and dismounted.  “Is there a stable I might take her to? She’s not used to this cold.”

 

Wade seemed to stir from his own thoughts.  “Of course. Follow me.”

 

Peter was lead through a smaller gate that faced toward the mountains the stronghold was built into.  There was a smaller courtyard with a stone stable set up. A few horses were housed inside, the space clean and cozy, comfortably warm.  Wade showed him to a stall and Peter immediately began unsaddling Karen and working gently to help warm her back up. He had finally fished out a brush and was ready to start stroking across her coat when Wade approached with a bag of oats, offering it to the calm mare.  She examined him then the food, then allowed him to set the bag up so that she could eat.

 

“Thank you,” Peter said softly as he began to brush her.  “I was not prepared for the temperatures or I would have taken precautions.”

 

“So you always wear a warm cloak like that?” Wade asked, tone casual.

 

Peter frowned, glancing over at the other man.  “It was a gift from my servants. I can’t imagine you are much aware of my family if you think I would bundle myself for the cold and leave my horse to suffer.”

 

Wade shrugged slightly.  “Not from what I’ve heard of the Parkers, but who can tell what the truth is?”

 

“The truth is that I expected to be halfway to Stark’s kingdom by now. I didn’t know what Osborn had planned.”

 

“And he can just do that?  Marry you off?”

 

Peter nodded.  “I didn’t expect him to, and certainly not immediately.  I thought he'd simply keep me from having children to remove any opposing claims to the throne.”  He looked across Karen’s back, unable to clearly see Wade in the shadows of the hood. “What of you?  Does he truly have the right to marry off his nobility like this?”

 

“I am a soldier first.  Besides, his reasoning is probably very similar.  He’s going to be stuck with me for a while, and no one needs me to procreate.”

 

Peter set the brush aside and looked back at Wade.  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that he did this to you.  I would never wish for my presence to be the shackle that binds another.”

 

Wade was quiet as Peter finished and cleaned up.  Finally, the younger man looked at him again. “Perhaps we should talk?”

 

There was a heavy pause as Wade considered him.  He finally waved Peter forward and guided him into the manor house.  The place was cold from all of the stone, a bit on the dreary side. Still, it wasn’t freezing and there was life here and there as servants and soldiers made the place their home.  The office Wade guided Peter to was warm and bright, a fire in the hearth and cozy furnishings and tapestries decorating the space. The decorations were a bit strange, a mis-match of oddities.  A bit of white caught Peter’s attention. He wandered to a glass case as Wade shut the doors and observed a skeletal hand that appeared human, cleaned of any flesh. The card read  _ Francis _ .

 

“Is this a human hand?” he asked, a little alarmed.

 

“Yep!” Wade said, popping the ‘p’ as he stripped off his gloves.  “Don’t worry, he absolutely deserved it.”

 

Peter couldn’t imagine.  “Is he still alive?”

 

“I did debate leaving him alive.”  The soldier collapsed into a chair, his hood still up as he nudged a table with his foot.  “I couldn’t decide how hilarious it would be if he lived know I had his hand, but in the end, killing him was just too satisfying to pass up.”

 

“I see.”  Peter decided to let it drop for the time being and crossed toward Wade, sitting opposite of him.  “I suppose proper introductions should be our first step. I’m Peter Parker, former King in the South.”  He held out his hand for a shake.

 

“Wade Wilson, Lord General of the Army of the King in the North.”  He kept his hands pulled back. “Trust me, Majesty, you don’t want to shake my hand.”

 

Peter frowned.  “First, my Lord, I am no longer a king and would prefer the honorific not be used.  Second, I don’t understand why you would think I wouldn’t want to shake your hand.”

 

“And what would you prefer I call you?  My Lord? Petey? Pumpkin pie?” He seemed to study Peter for a moment.  “How about Baby Boy?”

 

“How about Peter?” he suggested dryly.  “Or even Parker, if you prefer less informality.”

 

“Are you going to keep with the ‘Lord’ nonsense?”

 

Peter raised one eyebrow, amused.  “But you are a Lord and deserving of the title.”

 

“Baby Boy it is.”

 

He snorted.  “And why wouldn’t I want to shake your hand?” Peter asked.  If Wade thought he was so easily distracted, he was sadly mistaken.

 

Again, his question was ignored.  “So, if neither of us knew about this marriage or agreed to it, what would you like to do?”

 

Peter sighed, looking at the fire.  “Well, I suppose that’s up to you. This is your home.”

 

The silenced was weighted.  “Oh, baby, you don’t really want me to make that decision.”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

Wade’s tone was incredulous.  “Have you looked at yourself? You’re stupidly good looking and I bet you are quite bendy.  Something tells me those marital privileges would be a lot of fun.”

 

Peter could feel his cheeks heating.  “I wouldn’t know,” he said, his voice a bit stiff.  “But surely you are not okay with this just because of a pretty face?”

 

“What do you recommend?”  The question was pointed, almost angry.  Peter wondered if he hit a nerve. “We can ignore it, we can deny it, and I promise you that no one up here gives a solitary fuck one way or another.  According to you, you can’t even leave, so what difference does it make what Osborn wants from us?”

 

Peter narrowed his eyes slightly, annoyed by the hostility.  “I can’t go back into the valley, no, but I never said I can’t leave.”

 

Wade barked a laugh.  “And what do you plan to do?  The back of this place is cliffs, either above us or beneath us, both ways covered in ice.  There is no climbing out of here, and even if you did, there are plenty of things out there to eat you.”

 

It was Peter’s turn to snort.  “Who are you talking to? The only things in the mountains are dragons, direwolves, and trolls.  The trolls won’t leave their caves around humans, the dragons couldn’t care less, and the direwolves won’t eat me.  As for the cliffs,” he shrugged casually, leaning back. “I can climb anything.”

 

“So then leave if you want to.”

 

Peter couldn’t get a read on the guy.  Wade talked about sex with one breath, then seemed to want to be rid of him the next.  When Peter suggests leaving, Wade sounded offended. He didn’t know how to take it. “What do you want?” he asked.  “It’s your life being disrupted. I admit I was prepared to be escorted out of the mouth of the valley, but I have been prepared my entire life to be in an arranged marriage.  I’m not concerned by this.”

 

“Who are you talking to?” Wade snapped, throwing his words back to him.  “You obviously know nothing about this kingdom or who I am if you care so little.”

 

“You are perhaps the most deadly soldier in the Northern Kingdom,” Peter said perfunctorily.  “You were a mercenary first before being offered a position by Osborn to work for him. You have killed countless people, but your talents do not really lie with politics.  You don’t have the patience or guile for it. You also have a talent, although no one seems to know what exactly. Some even say you are cursed. You were sent to this station eight years ago, not long after you saved that child in the farmhouse fire, and no one has heard from you since.”

 

The air was still and tense.  Peter could feel the other man’s displeasure and, for a moment, he worried that he might have crossed a line.  Despite what he’d heard, he didn’t actually know Wade or how he would handle such bald truth. He quickly got his answer when a shiver of alarm crawled up his neck.  Without thinking, Peter was up and behind the chair, out of reach. Wade was in front of the chair he’d been sitting in, hands on the arm rests as if he’d intended to pin Peter in place.  Shadows covered Wade’s face as his eyes found Peter.

 

“Rumors seemed to have missed your talent,” he said, slowly straightening.  “A king with a talent; practically unheard of. I wonder what your people would have thought if they knew?”

 

Peter swallowed, unhappy with having been revealed.  He might be able to limit how much Wade knew, but it was difficult to say what he'd guessed.  “No one knows. Not even my aunt.”

 

Royalty did not seem to have magical talents.  They might employ those with magic, but their subjects tended to feel that a king with magic had an unfair advantage and would inevitably use that power to abuse the kingdom.  Peter’s power wasn’t obvious and he didn't have any physical markings, which he’d always been grateful for. He was sure he would never have had to reveal the talent, but it was moot at this point.

 

“How did Venom manage to catch you if you can move like that?”

 

Peter shrugged, looking away.  He didn’t really want to talk about it.  “I was distracted.”

 

Wade finally pulled the hood down.  Peter blinked in surprise at what he saw.  Scars of all sorts ranged across Wade’s features.  He recognized some burn scars, but there were also some from blades and even a perfect circle that could have been from… “Is that from an arrow?” he asked, surprised.

 

Wade hesitated, then reached up and touched the spot.  “Yeah. Hurt like a bitch.”

 

“But… that’s your forehead.”

 

“Like I said.”

 

Peter closed his eyes and shook it, trying to clear his thoughts.  “You can survive an arrow to the head?”

 

Wade crossed his arms.  “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

 

So that's why he’d finally revealed his skin.  Peter considered the offer, a queer excitement fluttering in his stomach.  He'd never told anyone, and he was nervous to do so, but for the first time in his life, he wanted to show someone, just to see what they would say.  He backed up to the wall, causing Wade to frown, but then Peter put his hands on the wall, and then his feet. He’d always had his boots designed with thin soles to make it easier for him to climb if he wanted.  Wade’s eyebrows shot up as Peter crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling. Then Peter released his hands, moving to a standing position. His cloak hung down toward the floor as he walked across the ceiling toward Wade.  When he reached him, he released the stone and fell, twisting to land effortlessly on his feet.

 

“Fuck, you  _ are _ bendy,” Wade breathed.

 

Peter let out a startled laugh.  “Seriously?  _ That’s _ what you took from that?”

 

Wade grabbed his hand, stroking a scarred finger over his palm.  It made Peter break out in gooseflesh. “How do you do that?”

 

Peter shrugged.  “I don’t know. As near as I can tell, it’s the same way a spider does it.  I can climb the webs of the giant spiders without trouble. They don’t stick to me.”

 

“What about other spider things?  Strength and such?” Wade gasped suddenly, his eyes lighting up.  “Do you spin webs?”

 

“What? No!”  Peter shook his head.  “No webs, but I am very strong.  I’ve never really tested the upper limits, but I can easily lift a direwolf.”

 

Wade seemed impressed.  The creatures were the size of draft horse.  He reached up and touched the arrow wound again.  “I heal. I can heal almost anything and used to take danger with just a little less seriousness than I should have, but…”  He shrugged, studying his hand on Peter’s. “I pissed off this witch. I got too close to her hut or something. She cursed me so that I could heal everything, but that my wounds will always produce scars. It’s hideous, and it gets worse every time something happens that kills me.”

 

“Like the fire…”  Peter cocked his head.  He could see why it might make Wade nervous.  He couldn't help studying the slick, stretched scars from the burns.

 

“That's why you don’t want to shake my hand, Baby Boy.”

 

Peter shook his head, amused.  “Honestly? It makes me want to shake your hand even more.  You saved that little girl’s life.” He turned his hand, taking Wade’s into his.

 

The man seemed unsure what to do about the touch, even if he had been the one who initiated it.  “So… does that mean you intend to stay?”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Peter said softly.  “You are the Lord General. I need to send word to Stark and my aunt, but if you think it safe enough for me to stay, I would like to do so.”

 

“And the marriage?”

 

Here he hesitated.  He had expected an arranged marriage, true, but he’d also expected time to prepare for it.  Finding himself suddenly married left him feeling unsure and shy. He had never had anything approaching a romantic or sexual relationship, not that he expected anything of the sort from Wade.  Still, he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it or what he wanted to do. “Well, I mean… what do you want?”

 

“Honestly?”  Wade turned their hands again.  “I want to spend some time finding out just how flexible you are, for research purposes of course.”  His eyes lit up as Peter blushed furiously. He also refused to release the younger man’s hand when it was pulled at.  “Just so you know. However, I don’t force myself on people, so it’s entirely what you want. We can be husbands in name, forever if that's what you want.”

 

“I… I mean I haven’t…” He had no idea what to say.  For once, his tongue seemed to tie itself in knots and he felt like the awkward young man his aunt had tried so hard to train him out of.  He tried to speak, but Wade latched onto what he’d already said.

 

“You haven’t?  Oh, Baby Boy.” The man actually purred as he stroked fingers almost reverently through Peter’s dark hair.  “We’ll go so slowly. I’ll romance the shit out of you until you don’t even know up from down.”

 

“Uh… good luck with that?” Peter said awkwardly.  “Spider powers, remember?”

 

“I stand by my promise.”  He moved closer, practically breathing in Peter’s air.  “Kiss to seal the deal?”

 

Peter swallowed, his throat tight.  “Okay,” he stuttered, suddenly apprehensive and bizarrely excited.  Before he could think about it too much, the other man’s mouth was on his.  It was warm and dizzying and he tried to both breathe and take everything in.  Wade smelled and tasted amazing and electric tingles zipped up Peter’s spine as the mouth moved against his.

 

All too soon it was over and Peter tried to blink to clear his head.  Wade was grinning, watching him try to come back to himself. “Okay?” he asked.

 

Peter looked up at him, then smiled, a little too excited.  “I think I could get used to this.”

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is terrible, but I really hope you liked it, pennamepersona!!


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